Quiet
by Take this to Heart
Summary: As soon as our eyes made the contact, we both blushed a fiery red and looked away." Songfic to Quiet. :


I looked furtively up from my homework over towards him.

He was watching me.

As soon as our eyes made the contact, we both blushed a fiery red and looked away. I groaned inwardly, writing harder than was necessary on my essay for the Goblin Rebellions. It was so painfully obvious.

_I hear what you're not saying, it's driving me crazy_

The fire crackled and I looked up again. He was sitting tensely in the armchair, studying his potion's book. I set aside my parchment and closed my eyes.

"Ron?" I called softly. I opened my eyes to find him staring at me with wide eyes.

"Yeah?" he asked, as soft as I had been.

"Do you need help?" I asked awkwardly, squeezing my hands tightly together to release some of the anxiousness. He smiled, making my stomach erupt into butterflies. He hadn't smiled that way towards me in so long.

"Are you offering?"

I shrugged. "Well...you look pained. Like you've just fought a blast-ended skrewt...and that's never a good sign."

He nodded. "You're right, like always. I don't get it."

"Well I probably do," I told him, patting the empty seat on the couch next to me. He got up and moved towards me, suddenly nervous. He sat down gingerly and showed me the assignment. "I know what it is, Ron. I'm in your class."

"Oh, yeah."

"So all it's asking you to do is describe different types of potions," I explained.

"I got that," he grumbled. "I'm not an idiot."

"Sorry..." I said, biting my lip. "Then what did you need help with?"

"I can't remember what Amortentia is, and I can't find it in the book," he said sourly.

I froze. Of all the different potions he could have had trouble finding, it had to be that one. "Well..." I sighed. "Er--one of the properties of Amortentia is that it smells differently to different people."

"Why?" He asked, scribbling down my answer and then turning to look at me. I felt my cheeks prickle and I knew color was creeping onto them.

"It, er, well...it smells different to different people according to what er, attracts them."

His eyes widened and he quickly wrote that down also, clearing his throat. "Erm--okay, anything else?"

"It's the most powerful love potion that can be made."

_It's like we stopped breathing in this room_

Ron rolled his parchment up, smiling widely. "Thanks, Hermione!"

I nodded, feeling myself smile in return. "You're welcome."

We continued to sit there, gazing at the fire. I glanced around the common room, surprised to see that we were the only two left. That seemed to happen alot lately. The fire dimmed and our faces were thrown into even more shadow. Ron was looking at me out of the corner of his eye, his hand placed carefully on his thigh. I began to breathe faster, waiting for him to say something.

_We're both the last to be leaving, I know what you're thinking  
I wish you'd make your move _

He stayed sitting there, his mouth closed, and I followed suit.

_It's much too quiet in here _

He doesn't feel the same way, all of Harry's words, and all of my observations were false. They were fake and fabricated and the result of falling too hard. I shifted uncomfortably and I saw Ron's eyes flicker towards me once again. Why doesn't he just reach out his hand and take mine? Or recline back and put his hand casually around my shoulders? That would be good. That would be better than just sitting here. Anything would be better than just sitting here. I couldn't help but worry it was my fault. I've never been very talkative, and Ron's never had a problem in that area. I sat back against the couch and breathed in, holding my breath before letting it quietly out. No topics of conversation came to mind, so I sat there, enduring the torture.

_I want to disappear  
I'm hearing myself thinking too clear _

I pulled my unfinished homework towards me and began scribbling furiously. The scratches my quill made were amplified in the large room, and I sighed impatiently. He still didn't speak.

_It's too quiet in here _

Why wasn't he saying anything? I knew there were probably a million things he could. Ron always had a million different things to say. Except for tonight. I almost brought up Quidditch. I even opened my mouth to mention it, because I knew it was something, and then I couldn't bring myself to make a sound. I was desperate; at this point he could ask me if I was writing to Viktor for all I cared. I would gladly start a fight just to fill this emptiness glaring at me from all angles.

_Make it all go away  
Why can't we break this silence, finally?_

Ron looked at me, smiling slightly at some unsaid thing.

_It's like you know where I'm going_

"So, that looks like a long essay," he said quietly.

"Yes," I said quickly, grateful beyond words there was something to say now. Then he said nothing. "It's on the Goblin Rebellions," I continued.

He snorted. "You wrote that much on Goblin Rebellions?"

I nodded. "Yeah," I shrugged. "So?"

"So that's mental!" he laughed. I felt my pride getting wounded and squinted at him, becoming annoyed.

"There's nothing wrong with doing your work!"

He grinned. "Yeah, there is when you do nothing _but _work. You need to get a life Hermione."

"What?" I spat, disgusted with him. "I have a life thank-you very much!" He scoffed and a little voice nagged at me in my head, asking me, 'Isn't this what you just wanted?'

_You follow me home, but I never invite you inside _

We both glared at eachother and he leaned in. I sat as still as a statue and looked at him, knowing I could easily close the gap. I could just lean forward and connect our lips together and hope to God that he wouldn't pull away.

He looked at me with no anger whatsoever. With what almost looked like nervousness and something foreign to me. "Prove it," he whispered.

I started at his voice so close to me. The room was becoming thick and closing in on me; I was forced to make a decision. I turned to study the fire and he was staring at the side of my face, laughing internally at my anger. I pushed away all thoughts I might've had of him and stood up, fuming.

_I see what you're showing  
I've got you alone, but the air is so still it's weird _

"I don't have to prove anything to you!" I said, crossing my arms. The unsaid things muted my voice, jumping out at me from behind every piece of furniture, taunting me, snickering at my gutless self. Ron laughed humorlessly and I felt accomplished as I finally sensed his irritation.

"Is that true?"

"Yes!" I snapped. Once again, I felt muffled as the blanket of our torn and half-gone relationship settled over us.

_It's much too quiet in here _

He stood up too, matching my stance. "I don't believe you."

"Why not? Because you've never seen me outside of school? That seems to be your fault!"

"My fault? You're forgetting Vicky!" Ron yelled.

My mouth dropped. "Am I? At least I'm remembering Lav-Lav!"

He didn't reply and the blanket exploded over us, showering us with memories of eachother, of jealousy, of rage, of our interrupted moments. It all blurred through my head and I glared at Ron lividly, disgusted he couldn't be more like Harry and get the girl he wanted.

_I want to disappear  
I'm hearing myself thinking too clear  
It's too quiet in here _

Why couldn't he just sit down and realize my feelings for him? Why couldn't he just sit down and pull me close and apologize for everything he had ever done? His shoulders slumped and yet he didn't sit back down, he started to walk away.

"Ron!" I called sharply. He turned around, looking remorseful and hurt, and my anger melted away. My nose burned as he continued to look at me. "Ron," I said again, but he didn't move. I swallowed hard, the abyss of our thoughts opening between us, threatening to pull one of us in if we took a step, or tried to fix the hurt we'd quietly cast.

_Make it all go away  
Why can't we break this silence, finally? _

"Good night, 'Mione," he whispered eventually, using the special nickname for when we were alone.

I let out an involuntary sigh and felt the tears gloss over my eyes. "I'm sorry," I blurted, watching his reaction carefully. This time had to be different. This time we couldn't go to sleep upset at eachother.

This time we couldn't walk away.

_Don't stop, don't stop telling me good-night _

One thought screamed in my mind, reverberating through the common room. I stood up.

_Just promise you'll kiss me goodbye _

He didn't move.

_What's taking so long? _

"I'm sorry too," he said, smiling and turning away slowly.

_Don't tell me you're gonna try _

"Ron," I said loudly, taking a step forward.

He stopped again. "What?"

_The tension's building in my mind _

This was absolutely infuriating. He knew exactly _what_. He knew the chemistry was blatantly obvious, he knew everytime we found ourselves alone in the common room or screaming at echother I just wanted to throw myself at him and snog him breathless.

He had to know.

Even someone that daft has to have some sort of clue. I let out a strangled grunt and threw a pillow at him. He knew.

He had to know. We both knew. And yet, he picked up the pillow in bewilderment and tossed it back onto the couch.

_I want to scream and I know why _

We stood staring at eachother until my tears spilled over and down my cheeks.

"Hermione," he said, jolted into action. I ignored him, turning away and slapping the tears off of my face.

I felt him before he touched me. It was a shift in the pressure. Suddenly it was elevated beyond belief and I couldn't breathe. Then his hand rested softly on my shoulder, and the silence was trying to comfort me. I spun around, pulling him against me tightly, wishing we could stay like this and not dance around the issues any longer. It was exhausting and we had N.E.W.T's coming up I had to focus on.

_Make it all go away _

His hand tangled in my hair and I shivered at his intimate touch. I looked up, the tears already drying and he was watching me. As soon as our eyes made contact, we looked away, blushing profusely. His arms loosened and we moved apart.

I sighed internally, knowing that this was the best I could hope for at this point in time. I gathered my discarded homework and he stood there, watching the last embers of the fire spark feebly.

_It's too quiet in here _


End file.
